Devil's Gambit

Chapter 23

"Wait- I can't feel my left arm. Did they rip off my fucking arm!" He shouted, starting to panic as his breaths grew more erratic.

"Harley- Harley!" Lucas took his face between his hands after shifting his weight over to Jonas, who wrapped Harley's right arm around his shoulders. "Your left arm is right here, see?" He pointed down at Harley's limb that hung limply at his side. "I think they dislocated your shoulder."

"Oh," Harley simply breathed, staring down at his immobile arm as his distress started to ebb away.

"Let's go," Lucas' mouth set into a firm line, and he trailed behind Jonas and Harley as the trio shuffled their way into the hospital.

As soon as they entered through the sliding doors, Jonas felt his stomach drop, suddenly very much aware of how much they stuck out like a sore thumb. Bloody and battered, quite clearly from a fight, accompanied by a guy who was easily six foot three and looking like the Grim Reaper's long lost son. The hospital itself was incredibly pristine, not a fleck of dirt or bodily fluid on the lobby floor, the waiting room relatively sparse for after nightfall. In the Southside, the emergency room chaos was only getting started at nighttime.

"Go sit him down. I'll check in," Lucas muttered, nodding over to some empty seats in the corner, the furthest away from anyone else. Jonas struggled with Harley over to a plastic chair, letting his friend flop down as he stood to catch his breath, eyes flitting over to the older woman sitting a few chairs down, eyeing them warily. Jonas raised his eyebrows at her, which finally got her to train her judgmental eyes somewhere else.

"We're scaring people," Harley laughed, which turned into painful coughs as he gripped at his ribs.

"Well what the hell are they in here for? Congestion? Besides, you guys are with a Northsider," Jonas shrugged, throwing himself down onto the hard chair next to his friend.

"I dunno, man. You're looking pretty Southside with that black eye and dried up trail of blood coming from your nose," Harley grinned, a bit of red smeared on his front teeth. Jonas stared at him for a moment, before cracking a wide grin and looking over at Lucas, who leaned impatiently against the front desk as a rather nervous looking man stared at him while he made a phone call, standing as far away from Lucas as the cord would allow him.

"We're harmless," Jonas sighed, and Harley hummed.

The man behind the front desk spoke to Lucas hurriedly, and he nodded as he wandered back towards the corner where Jonas and Harley were sitting.

"They're about to call you back. Looks like you're the highest priority at the moment," Lucas informed, glancing away a little uncomfortably, the intense gazes from the others starting to get to him as well.

"I'm a little surprised, Northside has a lot of older people," Jonas responded.

"When I mentioned head injury causing unconsciousness and delirium that was all it took."

"What? I'm not delirious," Harley guffawed.

Lucas settled Harley with a flat expression, but Harley was easily able to pick up on the hints of endearment that graced Lucas' harsh face.

"You thought they ripped your arm off."

"Well-" Harley faltered, looking over at Jonas, who winced and nodded his head. Harley huffed, deflating in defeat, not willing to argue now that a throbbing headache had taken over.

A nurse in baby blue scrubs came out only minutes later, approaching the three with a wheelchair in front of her.

"Can I just be shot?" Harley protested, embarrassed as Lucas grabbed onto his right bicep and plopped him down in the chair.